


Experiment Number One

by Castiel_in_the_impala



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-07-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 04:35:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7345141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castiel_in_the_impala/pseuds/Castiel_in_the_impala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Winchesters wake up with no memories besides their names, they make their way to a simple farmhouse with a huge secret. They discover an underground warehouse complex full of bizarre and murderous experiments where they meet a strange experiment. It has a name. Castiel.</p><p>Temporarily Discontinued<br/>^If you want me to pick it back up, try to inspire me. I dare you :P</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stolen Memories

His eyes shot open. He was immediately met with a murderous headache. He sat up and looked around, putting his hand on his head to try and mute the pain. It didn't help. He noticed he was sitting on a torn old mattress in the middle on what seemed to be a room in an abandoned building. "Dean?" Came a hesitant voice. That's right. His name was Dean. Dean turned around on the mattress to face the voice. His eyes squinted as he worked to place the face with a name. The man had hair past his ears and seemed to be a giant. Slowly, a name came to Dean. "S-Sam?" He asked slowly. The man looked at him questioningly. He opened his mouth to speak. "Is... Is that my name?" Dean thought for a moment. He couldn't remember anything but his name and what he thought to be the name of the man sitting across from him on another dirty mattress. "I think so..." The man called Sam stood up, almost falling over. Dean did the same. They both groaned, holding their heads. "Where are we?" Strained Sam. They both looked around. The room had paint peeling off the walls, windows were clouded and broken, the floor looked as if it had never been cleaned, and there were water stains on the ceiling. "What the hell?" Dean said quietly. The two men made their way out of the room and through a rundown hallway to a staircase. They peered down it. It was night, so it was dark, but an eerie blackness kept Sam and Dean from seeing the bottom. Sam nudged Dean, "Go down." Dean looked up at him with a disbelieving expression. "You go down." Dean received a bitchface. "Ugh fine, jerk." "Bitch." The two looked at each other, thinking. "Huh," said Sam, "I guess that's something we say..." Dean nodded, "We must be good friends." Sam hesitantly stepped onto the first step. It creaked loudly. He threw a 'oh what the hell' glance at Dean and shrugged before starting down to the bottom. 

They couldn't see a thing. It was pitch black. They had their hands out, feeling around in the darkness for something. Anything. "Ow!" Dean growled, "Stop ramming your elbow into my face!" "Sorry," Sam signed, obviously annoyed, "I'm not doing it on purpose." The two shuffled around a bit longer before a loud, gruff voice pierced the darkness. "Bloody hell. Get the lights!" The room was suddenly filled with light. Sam and Dean froze and looked at each other before turning around. There were three men in the room. One was standing next to a door. The other, the light switch. Both of them dressed in black. The third man was sitting in a chair, obviously the leader of the trio. He was wearing a black suit and tie. His hands were folded in front of his face, dark brown eyes piercing their souls. Sam and Dean didn't dare move. "Now," said the man, "Before you try and kill me-" "Kill you?" Asked Sam, horrified. "Why the hell would we kill you?" Questioned Dean. The man just stared at them, flabbergasted. "Bloody hell..." He stood up, "It worked..." Sam's face scrunched up in confusion, "What worked?" "Yeah. And why were we upstairs?" Added Dean, stepping forward threateningly. The man smiled devilishly. "Oh nothing," he paused, thinking, "And I found you two unconscious in a crashed car and brought you inside." The man smiled, happy with his partial truth. "The name's Crowley." He reached out to shake their hands. The two just looked from the hand to it's owner. "Thanks, but no thanks buddy. I'm getting out of here. Come on gigantor!" Dean called to Sam as he headed out the front door and Sam followed. He stopped at the doorframe and turned back to Crowley, "Uh. Thanks for," he chuckled lightly, "ya know, bringing us inside." Crowley smiled and waved, "Anytime. Take care of your brother for me." Sam sat there, taking in the information. Yeah..., he thought to himself, I think he's my brother. He looked up, smiled, and went to go find Dean. After the boys left, Crowley just sat there in his chair smiling evilly. "Your experiment was a success, sir. The Winchesters are no longer a problem," stated one of Crowley's minions. Crowley looked at him. "Indeed it was."


	2. Farmhouse Mystery

Dean spotted her from a distance. "Baby!" He yelled at he ran toward a black 1967 Chevy Impala. Dean stroked the hood, seeing that the car must've rolled over a few times. Sam caught up with him. "This must be our car that crashed. And dude. Baby? Really?" Dean glared at Sam. "Don't sass her, okay? She's been through a lot, I think." His mind wandered. Why didn't he know anything. He knew Sam, Crowley, and his car, but when he thought back further, it was all fuzzy. "Dean?" "Yeah Sammy?" Dean saw Sam staring at his neck. "What?" "Your bleeding." Dean reached around to feel the back of his neck. He looked at his fingers. They had blood on them. He looked up at Sam. "You are too." Sam reached around and sure enough, he also had blood. "Must be from the car crash," said Dean, brushing it of. Sam just nodded back. Sam got into the passenger seat and Dean slipped behind the wheel. Dean saw the keys already in the car. He threw a worried glance at Sam before turning the ignition. The engine roared to life. "Jackpot! She still drives!" Dean practically squealed with excitement. They drove out of the abandoned lot and put the creepy old house in their rear view mirror. "Wait," said Sam, looking over at Dean who was smiling at the road, "Where do we go?" Dean smile fell as he realized the same thing. "Uh. I don't know... We don't know where we live so let's just ask for directions." They are in the middle of nowhere so it took a few hours before they even saw a house. "Pull in there and ask for directions to the nearest city," said Sam, pointing to a little farmhouse in an unused cornfield. There was still a light on, even though it was well past two in the morning. Dean pulled up to the house and turned off the car. "Here? You sure?" He asked. "It's the only place we've seen for hours, Dean." The two of the got out of the car and walked up the creaky steps to the front door. Sam knocked on the door. Nothing. He knocked again. Still nothing. "Maybe their not home," he suggested. A loud thud was heard from inside followed by a strange soft sound they couldn't quite make out. "Oh their home all right," said Dean before instinctually pulling something out of his pocket. He rolled it over in his hands. A lockpick. He looked up at Sam. "Who the hell are we?" "Guys with lockpicks apparently," Sam responded. Dean just shrugged and started on the door. A soft click was heard before Dean pushed the door open. "Anybody here?" Called Sam into the house. No response. "Do you need any help?" There was another thud, followed by shuffling. Panic spread across Sam's face as he looked to Dean. Someone was in the basement. Sam and Dean located the basement staircase, flipping on the lights before going down. "We should really be calling the cops right now," Sam stated. "Yeah," said Dean. They looked at each other and shrugged.

They searched the basement, but found no one. Only an old cat, shuffling around. "It was just this goddamn cat," huffed Dean. Just then, they heard a noise. It sounded very soft and distant and they couldn't really make out what it was, but it was there. Sam looked over at Dean who was studying a bookshelf. "It came from behind this. Here, help me move it." Sam and Dean hauled the heavy bookshelf away and found a large, metal door. "What the..." Breathed Sam. It had no doorknob. To the right was a keypad. "We should be really scared right now," said Sam. "We must be really badass," Dean grinned brightly. Sam studied the keypad. "Hm. It needs a four digit code. The buttons labeled 1, 2, 3, and 4 are worn down, so that's my best guess." He pressed the numbers. 1 2 3 4. A few moments passed and nothing happened. "Must be broken," sighed Dean. Just then, the airlock to the door released and popped open slightly. Sam pushed the door open to reveal a long metal staircase. Dean sighed. "Guess it's my turn to go first." Dean grudgingly went down the stairs, followed closely by Sam. They stepped onto a metal grate floor. It was dark and they couldn't see much. Sam walked over to what looked like a control panel. He scanned over it until me saw a button labeled lights. He pressed it, the lights revealing a large warehouse. Sam and Dean just looked around with awe. There were several pools of different colored liquids in the middle of the room, half of them glowing. Another control panel lined the wall to the left. On the right, were about 150 screens. Sam and Dean exchanged looks before descending another flight of stairs from the small balcony where they were. They went over to the screens where Sam pressed a button labeled ON. The screens came to life as pictures of strange mutant things appeared. "What the hell," Dean managed to say through his shock. Every screen showed a different thing in a cage. Most of them alive. And all insane. Sam called Dean over to look at a screen of a woman. Well it sort of looked like a woman. It had the body of a woman, except it had glowing red eyes, fangs, and 16 arms. Not to mention it was purple. They looked at another screen of a rabid squirrel the size of a dog chewing on it's cage. They continued to look over the different things until Dean heard Sam gasp. He walked over to Sam who was horrified. He was pointing a shaking finger to the screen labeled number 1. It was dark, very dark, but they could just make out human legs. "D-Dean. There's a person down here..." Said Sam quietly. Before Dean knew it, Sam was running towards a small door labeled experiments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm working on this story as well as another one called 'The End'. I will probably update this one once or twice a week. I hope you guys are liking it so far, as it is a work in progress and I have so many ideas. Have a great day and always keep fighting!!


	3. Clicking

Dean ran after Sam, but his gate was small compared to Sam's and he fell behind quickly. Sam had gone through the door a good 45 seconds before Dean. He ran up to the door, but stopped suddenly. The sound of banging and howling was coming from the other side of the door. He slowly opened the door to reveal a metal grate floor with glass walls. Dean stepped inside hesitantly. The glass was thick. Very thick. Beyond the glass were identical titanium cages lined with electric wires. Dean was horrified. He saw mutant beings in the cages. Some were wildly swinging their arms and howling. Others were simply staring at him with dead eyes. Dean shook his head and called out for Sam. No response. "Dammit Sammy," he mumbled under his breath. He pressed on through the maze of brightly lit hallways. Unable to find Sam, Dean decided to turn back, but found himself lost. 'left,' he thought to himself, 'no... maybe it's right...' Dean was hopelessly lost. Suddenly a thought popped into his head. 'Turn around'. Dean did as the thought said. He was now facing the only dimly lit hallway he had seen. 'Turn left'. He walked the hallway until he found a turn and went left. He continued that way until there was nowhere else to go. A large metal door stood in front of him. "Have I... Been here before?" He muttered aloud. Dean looked at the door. It had a label on it. 'Experiment 001'. Dean turned to leave. "I better not..." Just then, another thought entered his mind. 'Go inside'. Against his better judgement, he turned back to the door. He slowly reached out and turned the doorknob. The room was dark. Dean couldn't see a thing, except for a small glowing red button. He walked over to it and pushed it. Lights filled the room. A small groan came from behind him. Dean whipped around to see a man hunched over and chained to a chair. The man appeared to be dead, or mostly. He had dark hair, wet with blood. He was wearing a torn, bloodstained white button down, ripped blue striped tie, and black pants. There were cuts and gashes all over the man's body. To Dean's horror, he was also missing his right arm to his elbow. Dean came closer to inspect the chains. They had weird symbols carved in them. Like some ancient language or something. Dean's thoughts were interrupted when a quiet "help... me..." was heard from the man. A thud. Dean turned around to see that Sam had dropped a ring of keys on the ground from shock. "I just... I went...," Sam bent down and held out what he picked up, "...keys." They stared at each other for a few seconds, dumbfounded. Dean turned his attention back to the man. "Well don't just stand there. Help me!" He said as he worked on the lock holding the chains in place. The lock popped and the chains fell to the floor. The man nearly did too, but Sam caught him. Sam scooped him up bridal style and started for the door. The man was very light, as if he hadn't eaten in weeks. Dean went to follow Sam, but stopped when his eyes caught a dirty and bloody brown trench coat balled up and thrown in the corner. 'The man might want that,' Dean said to himself. He grabbed the coat and followed Sam out the door. 

Sam ran up a few flights of stairs and outside to the Impala, with Dean close behind. The three sped off onto the road they were driving on earlier that night. "W-What do we do with him?!" Sam asked, feeling terrified. "I don't know man. I just don't think we should take him to the hospital." "Why the hell not? The guys missing an arm for Christ sakes!" "Somethings just telling me I have to go somewhere." They sat in silence for a few moments. "Turn left. Left!" Dean made a sharp left, nearly flipping the car. "What the hell was that??" Barked Dean. "I feel like we've been on this road and I felt like we had to go left," Sam said quietly. Sam blurted out a few more last second directions at Dean before arriving at a large warehouse. "Wha-What's this?" Asked Dean. He was very confused as to how an abandoned warehouse could help them. "I don't know," replied Sam, getting out of the car, "But I feel like we should go inside." Sam went in his pocket and threw Dean a key. Dean threw him a questioning look. Sam just shrugged and pulled the man out of the back seat. 

The lock clicked softly before Dean pushed the metal door open. It was dark and they couldn't see anything. "Well this is just like the rest of our day. Dark room. Dark warehouse. Dark hallway. Another dark warehouse," Dean sighed, obviously annoyed. He found a light switch, more like lever, and pushed it up. Old lights suddenly came on, making the huge library become visible. "Holy crap," said Sam under his breath. "Oh yeah, Sam," Dean chuckled while pointing at the thousands of books, "I feel like this is totally your heaven." A soft grunt came from Sam's arms. "Right. Yes. Strange man. This way!" Dean called while running down the stairs. They found themselves knowing where to go and entered a small bedroom. The walls were lined with various guns, machetes, and other weapons along with some posters of 70s rock bands. "Now this," Dean referring to the room with his hands, "is amazing." Sam put the man down on the bed. Together, Sam and Dean worked the clothes off the unconscious man, leaving him in his underwear so they could stitch up his wounds. Dean instinctively went over to a dresser and pulled out a first aid kit. Sam worked on stitching up the man's gashes and Dean worked on the arm that wasn't there anymore. "Dude. How is not bleeding out?" Dean was very confused. "Yeah I know," replied Sam, "He's lost about twice as much blood that is in the human body. That's physically impossible and he should be very dead right now." Sam finished up the cuts about an hour later. Dean was almost done bandaging the man's arm. He noticed Sam tense up. "What's up, Sammy?" He asked without looking up. Seeing as how he didn't respond, Dean finished up the bandages and looked at Sam. He was staring wide-eyes at the man. Dean followed his gaze to the man's forehead. It looked as if someone pounded three flat-topped nails into the guy's head. "Holy-" Dean was cut off when the man's eyes shot open. They were deep blue. They stared at Dean, full of fear. "It's okay," said Sam, rubbing the man's arm, "We're here to help you." The man just let out a grunt before trying to sit up. He failed and fell back onto the bed. To their horror, the man lifted up his right arm and stared at the bloody stump, confusion on his face. "I'm sorry," said Sam. The man just groaned and lifted his left hand. It was shaking horribly. He tried to scratch at the nail-like things on his face. "Should we pull those out?" Dean asked Sam. Sam threw a worried look at him. "I'm... I'm not sure. Maybe we should leave them for now. If we try to take them out, it could damage his brain further, or worse." Dean just nodded in response. The man made a motion to get up again, so they helped him up. It was then the man realized he wasn't wearing any clothes. He looked down at his bare stomach and threw a confused look at Dean. Dean's face grew hot. "Right. Clothes." He went to what he presumed to be his dresser, since it was filled with clothes similar to what he was already wearing. He pulled grey sweatpants and a black ACDC shirt out and helped the man put them on. Sam and Dean then lead the man to the large library and set him on the couch, covering him with a blanket. 

"So," Sam turned to the man, "What's your name. I'm Sam and that," he pointed to Dean coming out of the kitchen, "Is my brother Dean." The man just stared at Sam like he was insane. "Doesn't talk much," Dean said before stuffing his face with a sandwich. Dean's eyes rolled back into his head as he moaned with delight. Sam just rolled his eyes and turned back to the man. "Do you need anything? Food? Water?" The man thought for a moment before he started making clicking noises. Sam gave Dean a saddened look. Dean mouthed the words 'brain damage'. "Dean no. Maybe he just can't talk. He's been through a trauma. We could've ended up like that after the crash." The man looked at Sam with worried eyes. "We were in a car crash earlier tonight and lost our memories," explained Sam. "Yeah. And his creepy dude named Crowley helped us out," added Dean. With the mention of the name Crowley, the man became wide-eyed and started to hyperventilate. He frantically tried to get up, but Sam held him down. "You know 'em?" Dean asked. The man shut his eyes to calm himself and nodded. "Did he do this to you?" Sam asked. He nodded again. "Oh my god. What if he did something to us?! And that's why we don't remember anything?!" Sam was freaking out. "Calm down, Sammy," Dean places steady hands on his shoulders, "We can figure that out later. Right now, this guy has freaking nails in his head and can't talk. Not to mention he's missing his right arm." With that, Dean motioned to the man and stopped breathing, eyes cold with fear. Sam turned to see what Dean was looking at. The man's right arm. It was back. "H-How..." Sam stumbled back in shock. The man just continued to make clicking noises at him. Sam looked at Dean frantically, "That's NOT normal, Dean! This is crazy!" "None of this is normal, Sam!" Dean walked over and sat next to the man on the couch. He hesitantly poked at the man's arm. It moved. Dean flinched back. "Okay then. We've lost our memories and this guy grew back his arm." The man leaned over to Dean, clicking furiously. "Wait a minute...," Sam walked over and sat in front of the man, "Do that again." The man made more clicking noises. Sam's eyes went wide. "Say Sam." Dean looked at him like he was crazy. "Sam. The man can't talk." "Just shut up. I'm proving something." The man gave Sam a series of clicks. "Haha! I got it!" He turned to Dean, "Those aren't random clicks Dean. He just spelled out my name in morse code." Sam grinned, feeling very accomplished. Dean made a face, "I knew that..." Sam threw him a bitchface, "No you didn't, jerk." "Bitch." The man smiled at them, seeing as they could understand him now. 

The three of them sat at a table. Sam was furiously taking down notes as the man clicked away. Dean just sat there, feeling left out of the conversation. Sam finished up his notes. "Okay," he started, "His name is Castiel. We apparently know him. He says you," he pointed to Dean, "Are his best friend and you have a, and I quote, a profound bond. He's been tortured by Crowley for a few months now. And he wants to know what we remember." Dean thought for a moment before telling him everything. "Well, Sam and I woke up in this creepy house knowing nothing but our names. We met this Crowley dude. I found my car, then the farmhouse and the creepy warehouse full of nightmares. Then I heard directions in my head and found you-" he was cut short by Sam. "You heard directions?" Castiel gave a series of clicks. "How?" Asked Sam. More clicks. Sam just sat there, staring at him. After a few moments of silence Dean asked, "What'd he say?" He was getting impatient. "He uh... He said that he used his connection to you to send those directions to your mind. And um. He could do that be-because..." "Spit it out man!" Sam turned to him. "'Cause he's an angel of the lord..." Dean just laughed at him. "Dude. Angel? This guy? And angels don't exist!" Castiel raised a wobbling hand and clicked "c o v e r. y o u r. e a r s." Sam did as he asked. Dean copied Sam in confusion. Castiel's trembling hand scratched at the nail at the middle of his head before catching it in his fingers. He braced his left hand on the table and slowly pulled out the nail with his new right hand. 

The screams were deafening. Sam fell to the floor clutching his ears, but Dean just stood there in awe. He removed his hands. The sound didn't bother him at all. Dean watched as a blue light enveloped the screaming Castiel. A few moments later, the screaming stopped. The light slowly began to fade, revealing Castiel, breathing heavily. Sam got up, staring at the disappearing light. He went over to help Castiel. He looked back at Dean who was still staring at Castiel. "It... It was beautiful, Sam," he said quietly, "The light. The noise. He really is what he says he is." Castiel groaned and sat up. He cleared his throat. "That was unpleasant." His voice was gruff and low. It took the Winchesters by surprise. They'd expected the small man to have a higher voice. "So," Dean broke the silence, "Cas, can I call you Cas?" He looked at Dean. "Seeing as that is what you normally call me, yes. It is suitable." Dean gave Sam a strange look. "Do you always talk like that?" Sam glared at Dean, "Way to sugar coat it, Dean." Cas waved it off. "All is well, Sam. I have been told many times that I lack certain social skills, speech, being one of them. But, to be fair, I have only had contact with humans for a few years and I am just beginning to grasp some of humanity's mysteries." Dean hesitated, but asked his question anyway, "How long have you known us, Cas?" Castiel sighed. "Many years. 8, this September. 10 if you could our time in Hell," he referenced to Dean in his last sentence. "What?! I've been to hell?!" Dean squeaked. "Yes. You sold your soul to Lilith, a crossroads demon, to bring your brother back from the dead. She gave you one year. When your time was up, you were brutally ripped to shreds by hellhounds. You went to hell for 40 years, and tortured for 10 years with the demon Alistair. Long story short, my garrison and I found you. I raised you from perdition which took 2 years. You did not seem to remember that part once you were raised. You met up with Sam and Bobby, you father figure, but as it turned out, you had only been gone 4 months in their time. You met me and many things happened involving the apocalypse and heaven," he said plainly. Dean just sat there with dead eyes. "Dean?" Asked Sam softly. "Yeah. I'm, uh, I'm good," he cleared his throat and chuckled lightly, trying to mask his pain, "Glad as hell that I don't remember any of that." Sam turned back to Castiel, "Do you mind filling us in on our lives? You seem to know a lot." Cas agreed and told them everything. He talked about John and Mary, the yellow-eyed demon, the apocalypse, leviathan, the angels falling, Crowley. Everything.


End file.
